The sea no longer felt alive. It felt watchful.
The moment Alira left the glowing chamber behind, the water grew colder, heavier — as though the depths themselves were holding their breath. Her body drifted upward through layers of silence, broken only by the low, distant rumble of the trench below.
The red light from her bracelet pulsed steadily, a heartbeat that didn't belong to her.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
It echoed through her bones, matching the rhythm of the ocean's pulse.
Each beat whispered one word that crawled into her mind — Return… return… return…
She clutched her wrist, trembling. "No… not yet."
The sea around her shifted in color. The pale glow of coral faded into blackness. The faint silver of the moon above flickered and vanished as storm clouds thickened on the surface. Even the currents moved differently — slower, cautious, almost afraid.
The deeper she went, the stronger the pull became, like invisible hands tugging her back toward the trench. Her muscles ached. The pressure around her chest tightened.
Then — a sound. A voice.
Soft. Familiar.
"Alira…"
Her breath caught. She spun in the water, searching the darkness. "Kael?"
Silence.
Then again, closer this time — a whisper that brushed her ear though nothing was there.
"Alira… you shouldn't have come here."
Her heart leapt. "Kael! Where are you? Please, tell me!"
For a moment, the water brightened. Tiny glowing fish scattered as something shimmered in front of her — a reflection of a face, pale and flickering, like a ghost caught between waves.
It was him.
Kael's expression was filled with sorrow. His lips moved as if trying to speak, but no sound came out. Then the vision shattered — torn apart by a violent current that nearly threw her off balance.
"Kael!" she screamed into the darkness.
But there was no reply. Only the faint, rhythmic thudding from the depths below.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The trench pulsed with faint red light, brighter now — climbing upward like blood rising through water.
Her stomach dropped. "It's waking…"
She turned and swam with every bit of strength she had left. The water pulled against her like gravity reversed. Her lungs burned. She could barely think, only move.
Then she saw it — a shadow of something large ahead. At first she thought it was another rock formation. But as she drew closer, she saw the outline of a broken ship wedged against a coral ridge, its metal sides corroded and half-eaten by the sea.
A faint orange flicker shone through one of the shattered windows.
Someone was alive.
Alira forced herself closer, slipping through a jagged hole in the hull. The inside was damp and narrow. Barnacles clung to every surface. Seaweed drifted through cracks like curtains. She followed the glow until she reached the main cabin.
There — huddled around a makeshift lantern — were people.
Six of them. Their faces pale, eyes wide and tired. Survivors.
They turned as she entered, their fear shifting to shock.
"Who are you?" demanded a man with wet, dark hair, gripping a broken harpoon as if it were a sword.
Alira raised her hands slowly. "My name's Alira. I came from the trench."
The group exchanged uneasy glances. A woman with a long scar down her cheek frowned. "No one comes from there. People go in and never come out."
"I'm not lying," Alira said, breathless. "There's something beneath the sea — something ancient. It's waking up, and if we don't stop it, none of us will survive."
The scarred woman crossed her arms. "And how do you plan to stop the ocean?"
Alira held up her wrist. The red light from her bracelet flared, casting an eerie glow across the cabin. The survivors flinched.
"With this," she said. "The Heart. My brother found it before he died. It's the only thing that can seal what's opening down there."
The harpoon man stepped closer, narrowing his eyes. "Your brother…? You mean that fool from the research team? The one who vanished weeks ago?"
Her chest tightened. "Kael. You knew him?"
He scoffed. "We found what was left of his camp. Notes about 'voices,' 'songs,' and some kind of 'heartstone.' We thought he'd gone mad."
Alira's grip on her bracelet tightened. "He wasn't mad. He was trying to stop this."
A soft laugh came from the back of the cabin. A tall man, calm and cold-eyed, stepped into the light. "So, the sea gives us another messenger," he said. "And we're supposed to believe you're here to save us?"
Before Alira could respond, the ship groaned. The lanterns flickered. Everyone froze.
The water outside shifted — dark shapes circling the hull.
Then — thud.
Something massive slammed into the side of the ship. Dust and debris rained from the ceiling.
A woman screamed.
"Hold it together!" the harpoon man shouted, bracing himself against the wall.
Another thud, harder this time, followed by a scraping sound that made Alira's skin crawl — like claws dragging across metal.
"They've found us," whispered the scarred woman.
Alira's bracelet flared again, glowing bright red. The pulsing in her wrist matched the rhythm of the strikes outside. She could feel it — whatever hunted them — drawn to her.
"No," she whispered. "It's not after the ship. It's after me."
"What are you talking about?" the cold-eyed man demanded.
Before she could answer, the ship tilted sharply to one side. Water gushed through the cracks. The lantern fell and sputtered out. Darkness swallowed them whole.
In the pitch-black cabin, the red light from her bracelet was the only glow.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The survivors huddled closer, fear etched into their faces.
"Alira," the scarred woman whispered, "whatever you brought here — it's waking the dead."
And then — a whisper filled the cabin.
Not from Alira.
Not from anyone alive.
"Return the Heart… or drown in its song."
The voice was deep, ancient, and everywhere — inside the walls, inside their heads.
Alira's blood ran cold. "We have to move. Now."
The harpoon man grabbed her arm. "You're not going anywhere until you tell us what that thing is."
Alira met his eyes — desperate, trembling, determined. "That thing is what killed my brother. And if we stay here another minute, it'll kill us all."
As if in answer, something struck the hull again — harder than before — and a long crack snaked across the metal, hissing as water began to pour through.
The ship's floor lurched. The lantern flickered back to life for a split second — just enough for Alira to see a glimpse through the window.
A massive eye, glowing faint yellow, staring back at her through the darkness.
The Deep One had found her.
She couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. The heartbeat in her wrist grew frantic.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The sea itself felt alive with hunger.
And somewhere, deep inside the pulsing glow of her bracelet, Kael's voice whispered again — faint, broken, echoing like a memory:
"Don't trust the sea…"
The sound faded. The hull cracked wider.
The survivors screamed as water surged in.
Alira gritted her teeth, pressing the bracelet to her chest. "I'm sorry, Kael," she whispered. "But I'm not leaving until I finish this."
The Heart burned brighter, flooding the sinking cabin with crimson light.
Outside, the Deep One stirred — ancient, patient, and very much awake.
To be continued…
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